His eyes search my face for a long mont.
Finally he exhales slowly, then he nods once.
"Fine."
I blink surprised.
"...Fine?"
"You train."
I stare at him.
"You’re serious?"
"Yes."
I narrow my eyes, waiting for the catch, there is always a catch with him. Every conversation with Zane is like standin in the middle of a chess board where he’s already three moves ahead.
"But," he continues calmly, "only if I’m the one training you. I don’t want anothr man’s hands on you."
AHA!! There it is.
"What?"
"I’ll train you."
"No. Hell no"
His eyebrow lifts slightly.
"No?" he repeats.
"I don’t want you training ."
Zane folds his arms across his chest. The movent pulls the fabric of his dark long-sleeve shirt tight across his shoulders, his posture is relaxed, bur there’s sothing immovable about him now.
"That’s the condition."
I let out a short laugh that holds absolutely no humor.
"You tied to our bed and tortured a few hours ago ," I say flatly. "You don’t get to be my instructor. You don’t get to touch again "
His expression barely shifts.
"Then you don’t train."
Just like that my hands curl into fists at my sides.
"That’s not fair."
"The world isn’t fair, little spit fire."
My jaw tightens.
God, he’s infuriating.
"You can’t seriously think I’m agreeing to that."
"Then we’re done here."
He turns like he’s actually about to leave.. like the entire argunt ans nothing to him.
Sothing hot flares in my chest.
"Stop."
He does. Then slowly, he looks back at .
I hate that he looks so calm.
"You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you. " I accuse.
"Yes."
At least he’s honest.
"Why?" I snap.
"Because," he says, voice quiet and controlled, "if you’re going to train, you’re going to do it properly."
"I was training properly with Aaron."
"Aaron goes easy on you."
"He does not."
"He does."
"You weren’t even watching!"
"I didn’t need to."
I scoff and turn away from him, running a hand through my hair. The training room suddenly feels too small
"This is ridiculous," I mutter.
Silence stretches behind .
I know he’s watching . I can feel it like heat on the back of my neck.
Finally he says, "It’s simple, Elaine."
I turn back toward him.
"You want to train," he continues. "I train you."
"And if I say no?"
"Then you don’t train."
My eyes narrow again but He isn’t bluffing.
Of course he isn’t Zane never bluffs.
God, I hate this man.
"You’re unbelievable," I say.
"So I’ve been told."
" and you are controlling."
"Yes."
"You’re...."
"Are you finished?" he asks calmly.
I glare at him.
For a long mont neither of us speaks.
The room is quiet except for the faint hum of the overhead lights
Finally I exhale through my nose.
"Fine," I say.
The word tastes like defeat.
His gaze sharpens slightly
"Fine?" he repeats.
"I’ll train with you."
I lift a finger toward him.
"But don’t think that ans I’m happy about it."
"I didn’t think that at all ."
"And don’t think for one second that I’m forgiving you for tying up."
His mouth twitches.
"I wouldn’t dream of it."
I shoot him another glare before turning toward the exit.
"Great. We’re done then."
I take three steps toward the door before his hand grabs my wrist holding in place.
I whirl around instantly.
"Don’t fucking touch !"
I say while smacking his hand away hard enough that the sound echoes in the room.
Zane doesn’t react the way most people would.
He doesn’t try grab again and he doesn’t complain about the smack.
Instead he lifts both hands slowly, palms out. A quiet, exaggerated gesture of surrender.
"Relax."
"Don’t grab again," I snap.
"Noted."
"Seriously."
"I said noted."
His hands are still raised slightly, his expression completely calm like I’m the one being dramatic.
I cross my arms.
"What?"
"Our training starts now."
I blink.
"...Now?"
"Yes."
"I already trained today."
"With Aaron."
"Yes."
"That doesn’t count."
My mouth drops open.
"Excuse ?"
"If you’re going to train under ," Zane continues, completely ignoring my outrage, "we start properly."
"I trained with Aaron for like an hour!"
"Then this will be hour two."
"You’re joking."
"I’m not."
I stare at him for several seconds, trying to decide if this is another one of his power gas.
It probably is.
"Fine," I say coldly. Because I don’t Ike to loose a ga.
"Good.
Then he reaches for the hem of his shirt and for a second I don’t understand what he’s doing until he pulls it off.
The fabric slides up over his torso, over his shoulders, and then the shirt is in his hand.
He tosses it onto the bench against the wall.
Now he’s standing there with nothing covering him from the waist up
And....
Okay.
I was not prepared for that.
I know I’ve seen and felt his body before but..... Zane is built like soone who actually uses his strength instead of just showing it off. Broad shoulders, defined chest and abs. Arms that look like they could probably lift a motorcycle if necessary.
The muscles in his biceps shift slightly as he rolls his shoulders back.
For half a second... I just catch mysefl staring at this greek god.
Then my brain catches up.
Right!. I’m still angry at him. Very angry.
I imdiately turn my back to him, absolutely not giving him the satisfaction.
Behind I hear the faint sound of fabri moving but I don’t look to check. Ifocus on the far wall instead... on literally anything that isn’t him.
L
A few seconds pass.
Then his footsteps return to the mat.
"I’m ready," he says.
I turn back around.
He’s standing a few feet away now, feet bare against the mat, lokjg completely at ease in his own skin
Which i find extrely annoying.
Before he can say anything else, I raise a hand.
"One rule."
His eyebrow lifts slightly.
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